The last tear
by toiLet-cam
Summary: Hermione is about to get executed and Draco wants her to stay alive. Will his rescue plan succeed, or will he lead both of them to their deadly ends...


Light and darkness are illusions

Light and darkness are illusions. Beautiful tricks. So is good and evil. Even the good can turn bad, and the bad can surprise you by doing the right thing…

Four days had pasted since Hermione was locked up in this cell. Four days were gone since Harry's death and the day Ron was crucio'd to insanity.

Hermione didn't cry, she had no more tears left. No more emotions, dreams and hopes. The order had lost, Voldemort was now officially the whole ministry. People were suffering everyday, every hour, every minute, every second. Life wasn't important, all hopes were abandoned, all dreams were stamped on. All muggles were killed.

The last thing Hermione remembered before being kidnapped by the Deatheaters, were how Harry's eyes bulged as he suffered every curse that was shot at him. Voldemort deserved all that pain, not Harry! She watched as Dumbledore was cursed by Snape, how Lucius Malfoy crucio'd Ron, how Blaise Zabini killed Seamus Finnegan enjoying every moment there was.

The Deatheaters had kidnapped her, because she was a sign of Harry, they wanted to enjoy the sight of how the last memory of the great hero faded forever.

Everyday somebody would shove something on a dish down the door crack. She supposed they called the thing on the piece of metal food. She tried eating once, but immediately spat it out again. The objects tasted strangely metallic, like blood. They were probably intestines of the prisoners who died here. Yeah, that was probably it.

Hermione wished for the day she would finally be executed. She just wanted to see Harry and the rest of her friends in heaven again. She was starting to bore herself out of her mind. The cell was big and empty. The walls were covered in soot and it was cold. She didn't even have a bed. Shackles were bound to her painfully thin and sore ankles, leaving red marks.

One day, she finally received her first visitor. She looked up shocked, as the prison door was pushed open.

"Stand up mudblood!", a cold, pompous voice ordered her. She didn't need three guesses to know who it was. Draco Malfoy suddenly reached for her and hit her hard.

"I said stand up! When I say something you have to do it! Did I make myself clear?!", he roared at her with such a hatred, Hermione was already even beginning to doubt it.

Somehow even though she wouldn't give a damn about the Gryffindor courage anymore, she still was surprisingly stubborn towards Malfoy.

Looking up she said: "What should I do then Malfoy? Kiss your unholy feet?"

Unwillingly Malfoy smirked. Shit, he was supposed to be stern towards the mudblood!

He forced his lips to a sneer. "As much as you'd like to, you're not allowed to. I can't risk being infected with mudblood germ."

With a snort Hermione stood up. Her lips were bruised and her hair was standing up like they were a toilet brush. Before Malfoy could speak, she stroke his porcelain cheeks. Malfoy's eyes widened in shock as she caressed him. Suddenly she stood back with a proud smirk.

The tears Hermione thought that had vanished completely, were now delicately dripping down her cheeks. "Now I can die, knowing what I've always wanted to do has been done. Stroking Malfoy without him pulling away." Hermione laughed out a bitter laughter.

The first thought that popped up in his mind was that she loved him back.

Draco couldn't deny the fact that he was indeed head over heels in love with her. Since the first time he saw her he had been lost in her eyes. It was like losing a battle against quicksand, her eyes were pulling him to her. Except that he wanted to sink low into her toffee coloured eyes. It was warm and snug in there.

The most important thing. They were innocent and pure, while he was guilty and tainted.

He was suddenly scared. The tingly sensation that aroused him every time he saw her was slowly coming back. His heart ached when he saw how bad the others had treated her. No, he wasn't about to give into temptation.

Draco left her, slammed the door close and ran down the dark seemingly unending corridor. Running into complete darkness. The same position he was in his life. He knew what he did wasn't what he wanted to do. Like running into darkness, when there was light. Though a faint one, but still there. Hermione Granger never stopped glowing.

He had planned never to visit her again, but after only two short days, Draco was already starting to pine for her. For once in his life, he felt poor. Of course not in the materialistic way, but poor when it meant friends and love. It was just so quiet and lonely up in his room. Slowly he got up, he had to see her.

Once again he pushed the heavy oak doors open. Hermione was currently taking a nap, when she saw Malfoy bursting in.

He rushed to her and grabbed her by her arm, nearly sending her flying.

Draco pulled her up, yanked her to him and crushed his lips on her.

At first she was utterly shocked and just stood there, not knowing how to respond, but when Draco's tongue begged her for entrance, she gladly accepted.

For how long they stood like that was unknown. It seemed to them as if time had frozen. Finally when they broke apart, Draco looked into her eyes and said:" So this is what love feels like."

"Yes"

For a long time the two just sat there in the dungeon talking about everything. Hermione told him about loyalty and how it felt like to have Harry always with her, while Draco told her about how lonely and sad it was, when he felt like nobody understood him.

At last the subject, Hermione was most interested in was bought up.

"You know you're about to get executed do you?"

"Yes, and I wish it'll hurry up."

"What?!", Draco screamed," you want to die? I'm not going to let that happen!"

"It is going to happen. This is how life goes."

"Not if I have something to prevent it from happening", Draco said mysteriously.

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The sun was setting, but it wasn't the usual scarlet colouring in the horizon, like Hermione was used to. Voldemort hated everything that was beautiful and destroyed it. Instead the sun was now like a object they steered. The sun would suddenly disappear and the moon would come up. Though the sun wasn't so bright anymore, the moon made up for that. It was now bright and shining. It's silvery light always shone through the little window of the cell, casting mysterious moonlight silhouettes.

Hermione could hear the crickets chirping outside like they were trying to tell it each other stories. The grass was damp and the moon shone on it, making it glitter and sparkle.

She was glaring out of her window, staring into space, when someone cursed the wall of the cell she was locked up in. Hermione yelped as she was thrown against the opposite wall, sliding on the dirty bare stone

floor.

The Deatheaters had locked her up on the first floor, so if she jumped down, she probably wouldn't even break a leg.

She looked down to see who the offender was, when she saw that it was Draco.

"Jump down!"

Hermione sprang, landing swiftly on her feet.

"Run! The Deatheaters have noticed that someone has just made a hole in the building!"

They legged it.

Running for their lives, they made their way through the thick forest that separated them from the world. Curses were fired, spells were being dodged.

Suddenly Hermione stopped.

"Look, I love you, but this will never work. Go back and try to convince them that you were chasing me. Then say I cursed you. Just save your own life! I'll be fine."

"No, I won't risk losing you", Draco started sobbing, " you're the only one that I've ever loved, don't leave me!"

"I have to, bye Draco, take care."

With that she suddenly grabbed his wand and petrified him.

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40 years later…

Draco Malfoy, former Junior Deatheater in training sat on a throne made out of gold, with serpents of silver slithering around.

He was the new Dark Lord. Everywhere people feared him, and he had turned completely cold hearted and bloodthirsty.

"My Lord, I bring to you a new mudblood."

In front of Draco now was a thin scraggy woman about the same age as him. She had a brown curly mane with streaks of white hair. She remembered him strangely of someone he hadn't seen for a very long time…

She looked up to him with her big brown eyes, round with fear, begging him to spare her. Draco didn't even know he still had this feeling, but for some reason, he felt sorry for her. But it was his job, he had to kill her.

"Avada Kedavra!"

The woman's body went limp, she stopped breathing and her cheeks had turned a colour that remembered him of the sky the night he freed…

"Hermione Granger"

Draco's head jerked to attention.

"She was called Hermione Jane Granger."

Draco laughed out a bitter laughter.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner Nott? I thought you would actually tell me that she was the girl I've been in love with, in my entire bloody life!", he said in a hysterical voice.

He couldn't help it. A tear dripped down his cheek. Later in the history books, it was mentioned as the last tear that ever fell from the second Dark Lord's face, as he killed himself a moment later.

All that remains of Draco Malfoy, is the tear that fell on the floor. It became a heart of crystal, a sign for how much he had loved the woman that he had murdered. It also indicated the last bit of love in his emotionless heart. Even after his death, when he accompanied the devil, he had not forgotten her. His Hermione Granger.

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

Grandma Ylenia closed the book "The legend of The Last Tear".

Her Granddaughter Sheyla was crying.

"Why are you crying my pet?"

"I feel so bad for Draco and Hermione, was the story really true?"

"Well,", Grandma Ylenia began," every legend has a little truth behind it."

"Ummm Grandma, I don't get it. Our last name is Nott. How come the Deatheater that bought Hermione to Draco was called Nott?"

"Sorry dear, it's time for you to go to bed."

When Sheyla was tucked in, Ylenia started praying for her Grandfather Theodore Nott, who died. Yes, it was him in the story. The story was more near the truth than any other history…


End file.
